


Déjà Vu

by silkskin



Category: Paranatural (Webcomic)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, M/M, and fake swears i guess, it's mostly gen overall with bullymagnet hints, lots of dialogue and yelling, max ends up with like two broken limbs im so sorry, only rated teen for tiny injury mentions, they fight an angry ice spirit ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 12:17:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10513599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silkskin/pseuds/silkskin
Summary: “Uh, Max. Whassat on your head?”“Uh, my hair?”“Nonono, the purple thing!”“What? I don’t…” He frowns. Johnny seems to be pointing directly at the doctopus, except that’s not possible, because Johnny’s… not… a spectral… oh god. Max’s jaw drops. What.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Max's day had already been pretty exhausting, and that was before he got punched in the face by Johnny Jhonny (albeit accidentally), and caught fighting for their lives with an angry ice spirit. Also, Johnny's a spectral now. With ridiculously cool metal powers. All in all, the day's rounding out to be a solid -2/10.
> 
> \---
> 
> this is the fic I wrote for the bullymagnet week Seeing Shades prompt and only just finished now,,, like four months late lmao,, i've been writing this short for so long it feels so good to finally get it out there
> 
> dedicated to the bullymagnet discord for inspiring me to write this with their great headcanons and punning!!! it's been grand
> 
> ((there's a first friday reference bc i can't help myself, and also to old character concept art by zack, kudos if u can spot them!))

“No, no no no, wait a second!” The spirit zooms through the wall and outside, Isabel sprinting after it. She chases it out onto the parking lot, Max close on her heels.

“Can you, huff, try to remember, huff, that not ALL OF US DO FIFTY PUSH UPS A DAY?!” Max pants, struggling to keep up and also not fall face first onto the ground. His broken arm has healed enough to be free from its sling now, but its still in a small cast, and running with it for so long is proving a lot harder than he thought. It definitely puts most of his parkour out of commission. Ugh. He wasn’t even meant to be on afternoon patrol, but today’s been particularly unlucky.

“I don’t do fifty push ups a day, it’s at least a hundred an- crap,” She dodges the group of ever-present band kids, “-stop saying huff out loud like a dweeb!“ 

She vaults over the school gates, shouting, “HEY COME BACK HERE!” Several students look on, unfazed.

Meanwhile, Max runs directly into the gates and collapses on the ground, wincing when he collides with the various lumps of metal in his backpack. “That’s it, I’m down, I’m not moving ever again.” He can hear Isabel vaguely screaming in the distance and the sound of spectral energy firing into the air.

Approximately thirty seconds later, Isabel’s back and leaning over him.

“Oi, stop interrupting my sulk.” Max grumbles.

Isabel offers him a hand that Max promptly ignores. “People are watching,” she notes.

“I’m not the one running around yelling in a school parking lot.”

“About that. Um,” Isabel retracts her hand and leans back, scratching at her neck. Max squints suspiciously. “The spirit, kinda, turned into a tool?”

“…and?” Max pries himself off the ground. He grabs the bars of the school gates with his better hand, and attempts to force his exhausted legs back upright.

“The tool, uh, it’s a bus.” Max’s hand slips and he topples back to the ground.

“A BUS!?” He’s yelling now, voice slightly muffled by the rough cement he’d landed face-first on.

“Yeah I know, it’s stupid but- hey hey hey Max woa-“

Black spectral energy ignites suddenly as Max lifts himself from the ground (again), seething. “I run six laps around the school with a broken arm chasing a grudge that shoots lightning bolts only to find out said spirit is stupid enough to tool up in a bus that no spectral is ever going to want why do missions in this club always end up like this my hair is a mess and my jacket is still sizzling I swear-“

Isabel hoists Max back up by his shirt. “Look, geez, it’s not a big deal, we’ll just get Mr Spender, he probably knows a spectral with shrinking powers or something, and we can deal with it later. Let’s just report this back to the others.”

She drags an extremely reluctant Max back towards the school. “Speaking of the others, here they are now.” 

“Izzy! The cameras lost track of you when you left the school, what happened?” Ed runs up to the both of them, Isaac behind. “Did you manage to- woah Max, your  _hair_.” 

Max crinkles up his nose. “Electric powers, big metal bat. Not a good combo.” He rubs at his head in a futile effort to try squish his hair back down. It doesn’t work.

Isabel snorts. “Yeah we nabbed it, but it, well, tooled up in a bus?”

Ed bursts out laughing, but Isaac frowns. “That’s not very convenient.”

Isabel grins devilishly and pats Max with faux compassion. “You know, Max, it was a really fancy bus, pretty seat covers and everything.”

Max scowls. “…Where are you going with this?”

“Sleek black exterior, really matches your spectral energy.” She rests her arm on his shoulder, hand gesturing into the air. Max’s eyes widen in realisation.

“Oh no. Oh nO DON’T YOU EVEN DARE-“ He flails and ducks from Isabel’s condescending arm.

"I know no one’ll be able to live up to the Ghost Train, but I really think you should give this one a ch-"

“AM I NEVER GOING TO LIVE THIS DOWN.” Max leaps at Isabel, directly into her already assembled energy shield. His drawn bat barely makes a dent. She bursts out laughing, all loud snorting and tears, doubling over. It’s enough to make even Max crack a smile. Unfortunately, it’s also enough for Isabel to lose control and send Max toppling into the ground. Again.

“GUERRAAA!!” Max shouts.

Isabel’s laughter somehow grows louder, and she grabs Ed and Isaac and makes a run for it. Max picks himself of the ground for a third time and prepares to give chase. “Get back here, you littl-“ 

“HEY MAX!” Max freezes. He swivels his head slightly.

“Oh god nope.” 

From the corner of his eye, Max spots the unnaturally red hair that would haunt him in hell, and sprints off in the opposite direction. He regrets this immediately as his tired legs almost send him straight back to the ground for a fourth time. Help. This wasn’t exactly the time to get caught up in a fight with Johnny Jhonny.

“GET BACK HERE PUCKETT Y’STILL OWE ME FIFTY CENTS!” 

Max can hear loud stomping and yelling behind him, and he swan-dives into a nearby classroom through a window, kicking off a desk and landing perfectly despite his fatigue. Damn, he’s never pulled that one off so well before. Nice. He’s grinning despite his predicament; weirdly, it’s always chases with Johnny that bring out his best stunts. He's still proud of that scooter one.

He runs behind one of the chairs, ignoring Mr Garcia sitting at the table eating a packet of instant ramen. His legs are still aching from the spirit chase around the school. Ugh. As much as he loved sparring with Johnny, right now wasn’t a good time. “Look, Johnny, pal, I’ve already dealt with enough stuff today so, can we maybe postpone this for like a day? A week? Preferably forever?” Max yells. Johnny just glares at him from the open window. “Is that a yes? Please be a yes.”

“No!” Johnny yells, trying to both force himself through the window and fight off a peeved Mr Garcia at the same time. “Yer skateboard broke on the way t’school!”

“That was after you stole it! And also: what!? That was my only way to school with both an arm and a scooter broken!” Max groans. “Okay, look! I know we rip on each other for fun, like, daily, but today is really not a good day for me and I’m not particularly in the mood so-” 

He’s almost into the classroom. “Semantics. I want those bucks, Maxie boy.”

“That’s a big word, didja finally learn how to read?” Max snarks automatically. He mentally facepalms. Wow, Max, taunting the guy currently chasing you round the school was a brilliant idea. Said guy is also almost through the window now. Time to go.

Max runs into the school corridor, dodging a group of band kids (why were there so many???). His legs are actually physically starting to die. The dying _PHBBTT_ of an interrupted tuba signifies Johnny running after him, and he mumbles a small apology for the downed band student. He can hear Johnny’s feet thumping behind him, and he struggles to stay ahead, lungs burning. He could really do with his skateboard right now. The one Johnny broke. Great. This day really couldn’t get any worse.  

And just as he thinks this,  _exactly_  as the thought  barely even makes itself known , something worse happens.

_Schlup._

A doctopus flies straight into his face. 

And Max tumbles to the ground. 

He’s screwed.

“Hah!” Johnny screeches to a stop next to him. “Gotcha!”

Max groans, trying to subtly pull the squishy spirit off his face with his good arm. At least it cushioned his fall. He manages to shove it up to his ruined hair. He fumbles in his pocket. “Okay okay, give me a second to look.”

Johnny offers his hand, and Max takes it, yanking himself back up. God, why does he even wear these jeans, the pockets are always too tight to get anything out, and now his hand’s stuck.

Johnny rubs his hands together. “Shopping with the boys tomorrow’s gonna be gooooood~” 

“It’s fifty cents.” Max deadpans. “Did you really have to hunt me down for this.”

Johnny scratches his neck awkwardly. “I mean, I also wanted to ask ya somethin’.”

“You could’ve just, you know, come up and asked.” Max responds, still struggling to free his hand from the jail that is his pocket. That’s it, he officially hates these jeans. He’s going to set them on fire when he gets back.

“W-what?! That’s ridiculous. I mean, I can’t just— anyway! I’m the one askin’ the questions here. You’re like, the weirdest wackiest guy I know, but uh, this is prob’ly still gonna sound weird. I was, uh, wonderin' like, havya ever seen any, ghosts? Floatin' around all ghost-like…” Johnny trails off and starts staring at a spot above Max’s head, face pale. “Uh, Max. Whassat on your head?”

“Uh, my hair? It’s… a long story.” He uses his free hand to touch the bits of it not crushed by the doctopus, and those are still sticking up at awful angles. Ugh. Johnny looks terrified. Max grimaces self-consciously. “Geez, it’s not that bad, is it?” 

“Nonono, the purple thing!” Johnny takes a step back and points at Max’s head. “Oh god it’s happenin’ again. See! Th- This is what I was talkin’ about!”

Max stops struggling to get the coins out of his pocket, looking up. “What? I don’t…” He frowns. Johnny seems to be pointing directly at the doctopus, except that’s not possible, because Johnny’s… not… a spectral… oh god. Max’s jaw drops. What.

“Is that SLIME?!” Johnny’s backed away by at least ten feet, standing shocked and staring straight at the oblivious doctopus. Max tries to say something, but his mouth doesn’t really seem to be working. He’s filled with an overwhelming feeling of déjà vu. No way.

The doctopus lets out a gurgle, and Johnny lets out a high-pitched shriek Max would probably tease him for if this situation wasn’t so surreal. “Agh, Max, what is that!? See, this is what I was tryin’ to ask you!" Johnny rambles. "I keep seein' and feelin' things no one else seems ta and I mean, if I were bein' honest it was really startin’ to scare me, which is stupid because nothin’ scares ol’ Johnny Jhonny, but … Max?”

Max just opens and closes his mouth like a particularly incredulous fish.

“Max!? Oh crap, that thing’s like, eatin’ your brains, isn’t it!? That’s why ya look like that. Oh man, I gotta get it off somehow!” Max can feel his brain shutting down. He’s hardly processing what Johnny’s saying anymore, and he has a strange urge to just lie back down on the ground and accept his fate. This is too much for one day.   


He watches uncomprehendingly as Johnny pulls back his arm, bundles it into a fist, and- 

“WAIT JOHNNY NO-“

-punches Max directly in the face. 

He stumbles back onto his butt, going straight back down to the floor he might as well accept as his permanent residence now. He cradles his now bleeding nose, eyes watering. “AARGGHH WHAT THE HECK JOHNNY OH MY GOD.”

The doctopus, predictably, decides then to detach itself from his face and float away. The pain hits in full force. Max hates everything.

“I got it off! Guess who just saved yer brains!” Johnny yells, fist-pumping the air. Max lets out a particularly loud groan in response. Johnny’s face drops. “Oh. You ‘kay?”

“NO! Why jidshu punj me!?” Max struggles to speak through the fountain of blood that’s pouring from his nose, and tilts his head back. “Guhhh.”

Johnny squats level with Max. “Look, I dunno if you can see those weird blobs, but you should know I prob’ly jus’ saved yer life. But um, you can… keep the fifty cents as repayment.”  He pats Max’s shoulder awkwardly.

“Gee, danks, but chu didn’t need to punj it in the firch place, you idgiot. Tha’ hurt!” Max wipes away as much of the blood as he can, trying to spot another doctopus he can use to ease the pain. 

“Oh, sorr- wait. You can see them too?” Johnny’s eyes widen. 

Oh boy. How does Max even begin to explain this. “Uh, yeah. It- It’s, look, kinda hard to explain, but yes.” He looks up, and the redhead’s face lights up.

“Wait, really?? Oh _man_ , really!? You won’t believe how glad I am to hear you say that, but it was so weird, bro, I thought I was gettin’ sick or dyin’ or somethin’ crazy, seein’ all these weird visions! And like, you seemed t'be covered in all these squid things so I thought you'd be m'best bet-“ 

Max puts his finger on Johnny’s lips to shush him, and gestures at himself. With one arm in a cast, the other trying to stop his nose from bleeding all over the school’s tiled floor, and a backpack full of heavy metal, he’s struggling to get up. “Hey, hey, it’s alright, calm down. I’ll try to explain everything but- first, can you help me up?”

“Oh right, yeah.” Johnny tugs Max’s cast arm around his neck and hoists him up. Unfortunately, Max’s exhausted body has decided that it’s had enough, and launches Max into a dizzy spell for even attempting to move. He groans. His feet end up shaking too hard to support him, so he just slumps onto Johnny’s side. 

The bully is… weirdly warm. Like, unnaturally warm. And not in, you know, _that_ way, but it's nice, and wait no now he’s blushing oh god why is he blushing-

“We should probably get ya to a nurse, I dunno if I broke yer nose or somethin’.” Johnny says sheepishly. Max snaps out of his train of thought, coughing slightly. Still in a situation here.

“Actually, we should probably go to the activity club first.” Max mumbles. 

Johnny raises his eyebrows, but starts walking. “Ya mean those nerds y'always hang out with? Why?” 

“Long story short, we’re all like you.” Max explains, dragging his dead feet across the floor. “Wh- What kind of things have you seen so far?”

Johnny shrugs. “Weird floatin’ purple things, and- actually, now that you mention it, those activity nerds seem to have these? Weird auras around them sometimes? Like blue and red an-“

“Green?” Max perks up. “Hey, can you see this?” 

Max flares up his spectral energy, filling the air around them with black smoke. His exhaustion has faded slightly into thrill now. As unbelievable as Johnny being a spectral is, something inside him jumps in excitement at the thought of it. Not just because he’s not gonna be the club’s newbie anymore, but also because there’s something genuinely exciting at the thought of being able to bond with Johnny about spectral stuff (and how unbelievably ridiculous it can be). 

Until Johnny lets out a loud squawk and almost drops Max.

“HOLY HEC-“

“Woah woAH JOHNNY!” Max scrabbles at Johnny’s shirt in a panic.

Johnny grabs at Max’s side again just before he falls, staring in shock at the flame-like aura that flickers around Max. “What  _is_  that?”

“Note to self,” Max grumbles, recovering, “don’t do that again.” 

Max takes his hand off his nose and waves it in front of him, focusing the energy on his palm. “We call it spectral energy. It’s one of the things that make us spectrals. We’re like…” He waves the hand around. “…in between the living and dead, so we can see ghosts and also produce this stuff.”

Johnny crinkles his nose. “That's jus' called bein’ a zombie, Max.”

Max grins. “That’s what I said! But apparently they don’t like that term.”

Johnny’s eyebrows raise. “So… all these vision things. It’s because… I’m a zombie. Spectral. Whateva.” He frowns, slowing to a stop. “Are ya pullin’ my leg, Max? ‘Cause this really sounds like yer pullin’ my leg.”

Max sighs. “Look, it’s hard to believe-“

“Hard to believe!? If you’re messin’ with me, Max, MVP or not, I’m gonna kick ya into next week.” Johnny frowns disbelievingly. “I ain’t that stupid to believe somethin’ like that, ya know.”

Max backtracks, stuttering. “N-no! Look, I… I wouldn’t lie to you about something like this. Just, trust me.”

Johnny stares him down, unconvinced.

“If I’m lying, you can beat me up every day for the rest of eternity.” Max offers.

Johnny snorts. He starts walking again, pondering to himself. “…’Kay. Say I believe ya. Why me?”

Max internally cheers. “It depends. It’s different for everyone, some people have near-death experiences, some get possessed, Isaac mentioned eating lots of citrus?” He shrugs. “Not everyone knows. Heck,  _I_ still don’t know.”

“…You’re sayin’ I ate too many oranges one day and now I can see dead people.”

“And spirits. You’re not even seeing them fully yet. They’re actually a whole bunch of colours.” Max says. “The one you punched, or, tried to punch, thanks for that, was a doctopus, and it wasn’t eating my brains, it was eating my pain.”

Johnny looks at Max quizzically. “What? That sounds just as bad to me, yo. 

“Nah, doctopi numb the pain, though they don’t heal anything. They’re harmless. Not all spirits are, though. That’s what the activity club does; we ‘pacify violent spirits’.” Max explains, mimicking Isabel and making air quotes with his hand. “That mostly means beating them up.”

Johnny grins. “Now yer speakin’ my language. Whatta ‘bout the weird heatin’ thing my hands do?”

Max frowns. “What?”

Johnny gestures in front of him. “Yanno, when my hands start glowing red? I’ve half-melted my locker door many a time. How d’ya control it?”

Max stops walking. “What? Okay, that, I don’t have an explanation for.” He’d sorta taken the recent scorch marks on Johnny's locker in stride. “That’s… weird. I mean!” Max coughs and keeps walking. “I’m sure Mr. Spender has an explanation.”

“Mr who?”

“Spender. Our faculty advisor. You know, that moron teacher who wears sunglasses inside?” Max elaborates as Johnny looks on blankly. “Tendency to make really bad dramatic speeches? Annoyingly mysterious and morally grey? …Wait, doesn’t he teach yo-” 

“Ah right, that guy. You mean to say he’s a zombie too?”

“Spectral. And yeah, he runs the clu-“

The arm Johnny has around Max’s torso tightens suddenly, and Max flinches, slowing to a stop. “Ow! What was that for!?“ Johnny’s tensed up, eyes fixed upwards, and Max can almost feel the arm at his side heating up.

“Shhh.” Johnny’s whispering. “Do ya hear that?”

“What? Why are we whisper-” 

“SCREEEEEEEEE!!!”

“-ING HOLY CRAP WHAT THE FLIP WAS THAT.” Max looks up towards the ceiling that the ungodly screeching seems to have come from. He whips his head towards Johnny. “Tell me that was just a really loud angry crow and  _not_  a really loud angry spirit.”

Johnny gulps. “Angry spirit!? Are we bein’ attacked?” His head whips from side to side, and Max suddenly realises he doesn’t know if Johnny would even be able to see it. Oh boy.

“Okay, um. We’re a couple corridors away from the club. Let’s just get there as fast as we can and hopefully the others can handle it. Go go go!” Max, with all his dignity, starts hobbling in the direction of the club room, Johnny dragging him along. He’s starting to recover though, enough maybe to run if the spirit does make an appearance. He’s hoping it doesn’t come to that. 

The school’s pretty much deserted now, which is a small reassurance. Lockers line the sides of the hall they’re running through, and their footsteps echo slightly on the tiles. Unfortunately, this echoing is starting to be drowned out by the approaching screeches. A couple spirits scuttle frantically past him, and Max tries not to panic when he realises that they’re probably running from the same thing. This isn’t good.

Suddenly, a rush of cold air hits the two of them, sending a violent shiver down Max's spine. The atmosphere is instantly sharp with frost, and the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Oh god, it’s getting closer, with poltergeist-level ice powers to boot. The screeching is almost directly behind him now, and he can hear flapping wings as well. There’s no way they can outrun this. A fact instantly proven when something blurs past in a whirl of ice, coming to a stop directly in front of them. They freeze. Pun-intended.

Hummingbird-like, the spirit floats perfectly above the ground, sharp wings buzzing quickly. Icy fractals shape its body, glass-like and harsh, almost glowing a faint blue with the afternoon light. The frost is noticeably gathered around it, so much that Max can barely differentiate the spirit’s light blue aura. It’s not as big as he’d thought, about the size of his backpack, but he can tell it’s a powerful spirit, and angry. 

It lets out another loud screech, and this time Max is reminded of the sound of cracking ice, the roaring of glaciers fracturing under pressure. He shivers again, goosebumps prickling at his skin, and leans a little into Johnny’s warmth.

“Johnny, pal, now would be a really good time for your spectral sight to kick in.” Max gulps. “Tell me you can see that angry ice bird directly in front of us.” To his relief, Johnny nods. 

“I can see it alright. It… ain’t lookin’ happy.” He mutters, his breath condensing into little puffs of air. Max notices that he’s steaming slightly, and… heating up? Is he imagining it?

“It’s… definitely angry. Definitely a poltergeist, maybe even a grudge.” Max assesses. “We really need to find the others.” He shrugs Johnny’s hand off and draws his bat with his good arm, spectral energy alighting instinctively. Adrenaline kicks his senses into overdrive.

“Woah what are ya doin’? Isn’t your bat jus’ gonna go straight through it?”

“I don’t have time to explain right now, but no.” Max’s grip tightens on the bat as the spirit rears up, as if preparing to attack. “Watch out!”

The spirit draws up, and the frost around it starts whirl, shimmering and hardening into bits of ice. Crap. Max grabs Johnny and drags him to the ground as the spirit screeches and lets out a burst of ice directly above them. He’s really starting to hate these floor tiles. Looking up, he notices that the ice has seemed to phase through the walls and lockers, not leaving any damage. Well, that makes it harder to hide from, but at least it avoids property damage. 

He picks himself up as quickly as he can, and the bird dives at him, a ball of broken glass and razor sharp ice. Whipping his bat around just in time, he manages to clip the bird’s wing and send it spinning across the hall. 

“We need to g-go! R-run!” Max yanks Johnny off the ground and starts sprinting in the direction of the club room. It’s absolutely freezing now, and his teeth are chattering insanely, though the surroundings don’t show any sign of frost. He can hear the enraged spirit behind him, already back up from his hit. If it fires another ice burst, he won’t be able to see it comi-

“Max!”

Johnny shoves him to the ground, narrowly saving Max from being skewered by ice. Unfortunately, his ankle twists sharply as he's forced to land at an awkward angle to avoid his cast arm being crushed, sending a lancing pain up his leg. Johnny’s also crushing him. Great. 

The spirit, of course, decides to dive bomb the two of them again.

Johnny starts yelling, and Max swings his bat out to the side, aiming at the lockers. He latches an arm around Johnny as they’re dragged across the floor, slamming into the metal doors. Ouch. That’s gonna leave a bruise. The spirit whizzes past and disappears harmlessly into the floor below. Cripes, that was close.

Johnny’s still yelling.

“WHAT WAS THAT?! HOLY PUNCH WE ALMOST DIED!”

Max lets out a shaking breath. His life just flashed before his eyes, like, four times in the past minute. He’s gotten way too comfortable with this godforsaken floor. He groans, shoving Johnny off him and trying slowly to rise, testing his ankle. It’s definitely sprained. He grits his teeth, real panic starting to set in against adrenaline. His cast arm aches. Now he can’t run, and it’s still ice cold, meaning the spirit is still close. He leans against the locker, picking himself up on one leg as best he can. At least his nose isn’t bleeding anymore.

“Hey, Max, y’okay?” Johnny looks at him, worried.

“’m fine. Just b-bumped my ankle a bit. ” Max shrugs off Johnny’s concern, changing the subject quickly. “Aren’t y-you cold?”

“Nah, not really.” He pauses. “How did we- how did we even dodge that?!” 

“Um, my b-bat has like, magnetic powers. I just used it to lug us across the f-floor towards the lockers.” Max explains, rapping the locker doors lightly. “It’s p-pretty temperamental, though, pun always intended. And the metal I control would go s-straight through the spirit.”

“Yo, dude, that’s awesome!” Johnny whistles. “Is this a zombie thing or a ancient artefact thing? Do we all get super powers?” Max’s mouth twitches up slightly.

“Eh, not really, but we can all manipulate spectral energy.” His face hardens. “Which is the plan right now.” 

Johnny raises his eyebrow. “Uh?”

“Running from the spirit is practically impossible without being skewered from behind, so we’ve got to try hold our ground. I can use my spectral energy as a shield if I focus enough. I’m not great at it and it won’t last long, but hopefully we can just stall for time for the rest of the club to arrive. Just follow me and avoid the shards.” Max doesn’t mention that ‘not being great at it’ is more like ‘barely being able to hold a shield with both hands against five of Isabel’s spec-shots let alone a barrage of ice’, but there’s no helping it this time. His stomach churns. There’s a sudden wave of cold again, followed by a shriek, and Max quickly puts his bat back into his backpack and stretches his arms in front of him. Johnny, thankfully, doesn’t comment on the dramatic pose.

Max gulps. “Here it comes.”

On cue, the spirit launches out of the ground, spinning in the air. If it wasn’t a grudge before, it definitely is now. Almost double in size, its huge wings beat violently in the air, each thrash like the sound of scraping ice. Where it was clear before, smoke-like patterns of dark blue and white criss-cross its torso, like looking into the surface of a frozen lake, covered in icy crystals.

If it wasn’t glaring certain death at Max, he would’ve found it beautiful. 

The frost around it hardens much faster this time, and Max quickly gathers the spectral energy at his palms, scrunching up his eyebrows and trying to picture it spreading around him and Johnny as a shield. He pushes out with both hands and the energy bursts into a wide sheet of translucent black just in time for a dozen ice shards to slam into it, forcing Max back a few steps. He dissipates it immediately and lets the ice shards fall to the ground, where they seem to dissolve into thin air. Jiminy cricket, he’s already tired.

Johnny lets out a warning shout as the spirit rears up and goes back into a dive-bomb, spinning this time as it comes at the two of them at breakneck speed, drill-like. Max grabs Johnny and leaps as far as he can to the right, ankle screaming in protest. He  _just_  manages to dodge it, but his feet hit the ground hard and he gasps, almost falling, as his ankle flares red-hot with pain.

The spirit, unfortunately, has learnt its lesson, and pulls out a lot faster from the dive, spreading its wings to stop the fall. It screams with annoyance and this time starts to spin on the spot, blurring as it spins faster and faster. Ice shards spit themselves out in all directions. It’s like a mini glass tornado.

Max groans.  _Are you flipping kidding me._ He feels like he’s fighting a video-game boss. Fragments shoot his way as he grabs Johnny and ducks down quickly, trying not to use his ankle too much.  _Press x to dodge._ He pushes himself up and twists just in time to avoid the next volley, which barely misses Johnny. Crap, they’re firing too quickly. Max reaches to the side, spectral energy forming another shield that just saves Johnny in the nick of time.  _Press y to block._  He’s starting to feel light-headed, his mind buzzing with exhaustion. 

He doesn’t dodge the next one fast enough, and ice scrapes at his arm, drawing blood. Johnny yelps behind him as a shard slices through his hair, barely missing his head and shaving off some of the curls. He leaps to the ground as the spirit gets closer, dragging Johnny down with him. He’s panting. Where the heck is the rest of the club!? When he moves to get up this time, his ankle buckles and he lands hard on his cast arm, forcing a pained hiss out of him.  _Mash x to move the broken ankle._  The spirit whirls faster. He mentally screams at himself to move, his summoned energy shield shattering at the next volley, ice cutting at his cheek. No no no no. Max lunges to the side and tries to shield Johnny, something like bile rising in his stomach at the harsh familiarity. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Johnny trying to reach the lockers. He closes his eyes, heart lurching.

_CLANG!_

Max opens his eyes. 

He notices several things at once.

One, he's not dead.

Two, neither is Johnny, who's panting heavily next to him.

Three, there's something glowing red-hot in front of him, filling the air with a metallic heat and driving away the cold. 

Four, that something is a burning metal locker door, wrenched away to shield the two of them, and...

Five. Johnny's holding it, arms glowing orange and steam rising from his entire body.

"Holy crap." Max voices.

Johnny nods slightly in shocked agreement. 

"H-how did you…” Max stutters.

"I... I dunno, time just suddenly slowed down and something told me to grab it."

"B-but you don't have a tool- I mean, you're a  _medium_?! ” Max asks, incredulous.

"I dunno what that is, bro." He's staring at his hands with awe. “But… does that mean I have superpowers?! Is this my superpower!?”

Max looks at the scorching metal in front of them, then back to Johnny. The pink door has been shoddily transformed into a shield-like sheet, scrunched up where it's held by the redhead's fiery hands. 

“That’s… incredible. You can... melt, no,  _forge_ , metal?" Max asks, stunned. Man, how come everyone got such cool powers?

“I guess?! I've... I've never done somethin' like that before! But, it's like the same kinda heatin' my hands did." Johnny replies. He winces slightly as ice continues to slam into the shield. "Hold on a sec."

Max watches as Johnny shoves the burning door in the spirit's direction, toppling it across the hall. The spirit shrieks as the door slams into it, sending it careening through the wall and into the next hallway. Max pants, exhausted, relishing in the brief absence of ice shards and death. Johnny just saved his life. He can’t believe he almost died. Again. For the fourteenth time this week. He totally hasn’t been counting.

Johnny groans and slowly picks himself up. “You okay, Max?”

“Y-yeah.” He’s not really lying. At least he’s not dead. But he’s still feeling kinda dizzy, and it hurts, like, everywhere. Johnny’s already reached his hand down to help, but Max quickly stops him. “Careful! You’re hot. I mean! Burning. Glowing. Yeah.” He coughs. Wow, Max, real smooth.

Johnny, thankfully, doesn’t look like he read into’ that, and jerks his hand back quickly. He shakes his hand violently, like he’s trying to put out imaginary flames. The glow fades. 

“Yikes, sorry! Almos’ burned ya.” Johnny reaches down again to help Max. Grabbing his arm, Max winces as he slowly puts weight on his ankle. The bully’s still close to burning, but it’s a welcome relief to the frosty atmosphere. 

“How’s yer ankle?”

Max brushes him off. “It’s fine.”

Johnny raises an eyebrow, unconvinced.

“Okay okay, it’s not fine. I… don’t think I’ll be able to run.” Max admits, gulping. “What if you just went withou-”

“Nope.” Johnny shakes his head. “Don’t even think about it. I ain’t leavin’ ya.”

“You won’t be! You can get the rest of the club to help an-“

“And leave you to die while I’m gone? No way. Yer not gonna last another second with that bird.”

Max grits his teeth. “Johnny, we’re _both_ gonna die here unless we get some help!”

“And I’m telling ya, I ain’t leavin’ no one behind. ’s’not like me anyway. We’re doin’ this together.”

Max sighs in annoyance, but he’s still slightly relieved. It doesn’t make this situation any better, but it’s comforting to know Johnny wouldn’t just ditch him. He shakes his head. “That was too cheesy. What do you propose we do then, you dork?”

Johnny smirks. “Well I got these cool powers now, right? I could prob’ly, like, melt the sucker.”

Max hums. “We’d never get you close enough. But! We can shield ourselves a lot better now.”

An idea worms its way into Max's brain. 

“Wait… the spirit couldn't phase through the door. What if… Could I...?" His brain races. He draws his bat and points it towards the collapsed door, flicking his hand up. 

The door shudders, drawing upwards slightly. A contemplative smile begins to form on Max’s face. Wait for it… A screech echoes down the hall, and when the spirit makes another appearance, Max tightens his grip on the bat with both hands and swings. The door whips across the hall, crashing into… the lockers right next to the spirit. Oops. Max winces and jerks back on the door, this time aiming it properly. Second time’s the charm. The spirit halts and dives again, dodging the burning shield.

“Ah man, it was too heavy.” Max’s eyes glint. “But I’ve got a better idea.”

He swings his backpack round and rummages, yanking out a handful of small gears, paper, and a heavy metal CD. He passes the gears to Johnny, leaving the rest in his bag. Johnny tilts his head in confusion.

“What’re these for?”

Max picks up a gear and gestures at Johnny. “Do you have any idea if you could do that forging thing again? If you can melt the gears so that they hit the spirit, and I can control the metal, we-“

“We could beat up that spirit like it’s a nerd and we’re a baseball friendship fusion!!” Johnny blurts out, face lighting up.

“Yeah. I think.” Johnny’s excitement is contagious, and Max can feel his mouth twitching into a smile. “Do you think you can?”

Johnny grins. “‘Course.” 

He picks up a gear with one hand, clenching it in his fist. Grey spectral energy starts billowing out, something Max didn’t notice before, mistaking it for smoke. Tongue poking out, Johnny squints in concentration, and soon enough, the metal melts and twists itself into a little glowing, well, sphere, in the loosest sense of the word. It’s about the same size (though a lot more lopsided) as a squash ball. 

Max ogles at it. That will never not be cool. “Damn.”

He uses his bat to lift it up gently (it’s still sizzling), and loops it around the both of them, trying to control the movement. It’s a bit wobbly, but it’d work. He chucks the other gears at Johnny, who grins and catches them niftily, getting to work.

The cold hits again. But this time, Johnny’s casting waves of heat, and the frost barely touches them. The spirit lurches out of the ground right in front of them, shaking with anger. It’s dripping, the ice on its body shattered slightly and melting. It’s awfully close. Max tightens his grip on his bat.

“Hey, icicle! Take THIS!” He swings the bat round, and the chrome ball whips around him, still burning with heat, and rockets into the spirit. The bird squawks in pain, wings stumbling, startled, as the projectile knocks it back, cracking and thawing the ice.

At the same time, Max steps forward with his good foot, and whacks the distracted spirit down the hall. Whoof, it was a lot heavier than earlier. The bird tumbles, but picks itself up quickly, wings starting to swivel again.

“Oh no you don’t!” Johnny shouts. “Max, catch!”

Max turns just in time for something to hit his bat, caught by the magnet. Johnny’s forged a whole bunch of random, dodgy projectiles: misshapen darts, ‘spiked’ balls, even… a… was that a boomerang?? Max grins; Johnny looks ridiculously proud. 

He lets a couple of them drop, keeping the darts. Max draws back with his bat, reaching behind his head, and swings forward with all his strength, letting the missiles launch forward, pounding the spirit before it can start its whirlwind of ice. It squawks and stutters backward, any icicles that it formed dropping to the ground and disintegrating quickly.

Johnny whoops, jumping in excitement. “How’d ya like being on the receiving side?” He moves to hi-five Max, who shouts a warning, and stops just short of burning Max’s arm off. “Oops.”

But Max is grinning too, proud of his plan. “It’s actually working. Okay, keep going!”

Max shoots a spiked ball forward with a swing of his bat, but this time the spirit flits to the side, dodging it easily. He grits his teeth, bat swinging back and forth as he launches the metal at it, one by one, and while half of it misses, the spirit’s begun to slow as the surrounding heat gets to it. Up to his last projectile, Max launches the weird metal boomerang round, and as it loops back to him he pulls the used metal along with it, dragging it rattling across the floor towards Johnny.

“Quick!” Max yells, and Johnny runs to pick up the scraps. Unfortunately, the ice spirit doesn’t wait for him, and it leans back, wings still lashing (albeit wearily), gathering the frost around it to form icicles. Max shoots his hand out, spectral energy sputtering as he attempts to get a shield up.

“Max!” Johnny leaps into the path of ice, and Max watches the metal he’s holding burn orange and fan out into a small shield. The ice knives slam hard into it, impaling themselves in the metal, but melt quickly and drip to the ground. 

“Thanks.” Max pants. 

Johnny looks back at him. “No prob.” He throws the shield up into the air above. “Take it!”

Max uses his bat to grab a hold of the metal, and spins it round, before lashing it forward like a discus. It slams heavy into the bird, and sends it ricocheting backwards.

Max cheers. “Yes!”

Johnny jumps up and fist pumps the air. “Oh hell yeah! We are _such_ a good team. GET REKT, WEIRD ICE SPIRIT!”

Max watches the bird shake itself off again; oh man, how many times is it going to take to bring this thing down? He’ll be ready for it this time though. He tilts his head to the side, gesturing at Johnny to get aside, and settles into a familiar stance. 

Johnny’s eyes light up. “Ohohohoho. I like how you think, Puckett.”

When the spirit rises again, he glances to Johnny, whose arms are full of scrap metal. Yeah okay, both of them are pulling off ridiculously dramatic poses, but he’ll let it go for now. 

He smirks. “Let’s play some baseball.”

Johnny pitches a miniature cannonball towards him, sizzling hot, and Max swings with all his might, sending it towards the spirit like a bullet. It whacks the spirit’s tail, which shatters and breaks off. 

Johnny whoops. “Strike One!”

The spirit wails and shoots forward another ice barrage, but misses them wildly in its panic. Again, Johnny throws, Max swings, and the tiny cannonball slams into the bird, breaking off portions of the wing this time. The spirit drops, but somehow manages to stay airborne.

“Strike two!”

His arms burn in exhaustion. So close. 

Johnny brings his arm back once more, hollering as he does, and in response the ball he’s holding bursts into brilliant flame as he pelts it forward. Max steps back, arm at the ready, gritting his teeth. Come on. He swings. _Come on._

The bat collides with the metal with a resounding clang and rockets forward, Max stumbling backwards at the force. 

_KRAKOOM!_

Time seems to slow down, and the cannonball shoots forward in slow-motion. The tiny meteor hits the bird spot on, and it screams, shattering into a thousand tiny shards of ice. They rain harmlessly into the walls surrounding, disintegrating. The frost recedes as quickly as it came. The two of them stand, shellshocked and panting, staring at the empty space left behind.

“Home run.” Johnny whispers. He throws both his arms into the air and starts jumping up and down, yelling. “HOME RUUUNNNN! DIDJA SEE THAT, MAX!? WE JUST BEAT THE SUCKER! WAS THAT COOL OR WAS THAT _COOL_?!”

Max responds by promptly collapsing to the floor. He vaguely spots the spirit’s ghost flitting away down the corridor, but from his spot on the ground, he’s absolutely not bothered to go after it. His ankle is on fire, and he’s ready to just… melt into the floor at this point. Kiss it goodnight and just sleep for a decade. 

“Oh crap. Max, y’okay?” Johnny drops down next to him, a look of concern on his face. It’s kinda cute. Max lets out a groan. You know what, he’s tired and delusional and his mind obviously isn’t working properly. Johnny pokes at his arm a bit. 

Max waves him off clumsily. “I’ll be okay in a sec.”

Johnny doesn’t look any less worried, but sits himself down, leaning back onto his hands. “Man, I haven’t been in a fight that intense since I got into a tussle with a tenth grader that one time. Is being a zombie always that crazy?”

Max snorts. “Wish I could reassure you, but pretty much.” He ticks his jiminy-cricket-I-almost-died-again counter up to fifteen. “We did good though.” Max says, reaching up to fist-bump the redhead.

“You bet. Do y’guys also have a superpowered clean-up crew? Or…” Johnny gestures around him, and Max lifts his head slightly to look. Wow. The ground is covered in scorch marks, all slightly smouldering, and the lockers are dented where the missiles had landed. The locker door is still lying a couple of feet away, malformed and steaming. It smells of smoke and the sharp tang of metal. It’s a wonder the smoke alarm didn’t go off.

“Yeeaahh no.” Max grimaces. “Our other medium isn’t really allowed to use his powers indoors, and most spectral powers are invisible to other people.” 

He lifts his bat up and swings it slowly around him, pulling in all the little projectiles to the metal surface. They’re still a little hot, but he sits up and shakes them into his backpack quickly. 

"Hm. Lemme try somethin'." Johnny stands and picks up the smouldering door, eyebrows drawn together as he focuses. His hands start to glow again as he pushes and pulls at the metal, trying to reshape it. His tongue pokes out at the corner of his mouth.

When he's done, the door... looks even worse. Max stifles his laughter as Johnny reveals a misshapen sheet, vaguely resembling a half-eaten pizza. Johnny tuts and shakes his head, grinning.

“Y'know what, I think it's a masterpiece. The owner of that locker'll be lucky t'have it." Johnny remarks.

Max snorts as Johnny places the sheet gently in front of the open locker. It fits like bad Tetris. The door is a stark black where Johnny couldn't get rid of the scorch marks. Suzy's gonna have a field trip when she sees this tomorrow morning. He gives Johnny a thumbs up. 

"MAX!! YOU'RE OKAY! AND NOT DEAD!"

Max whips his head round at the voice, and comes face to face with a terrifying Isabel in hug-mode, who immediately tackles him.

“Woah, careful on the ankle!” Max grins, squeezed tightly in Isabel’s arms. “This is giving me déjà vu."

"See, the fact that you can even say that is concerning." She chuckles, releasing him. Her eyes widen when she takes a proper look at him. "Oh man, what happened to your ankle? And your nose?! Oh my god, are you okay?!”

Oh, yeah. he’d forgotten about his nose. He rubs at it, feeling the dried blood. He still needs to get that checked. Along with his ankle now. Ugh. “Yeah, I… may have sprained it slightly?”

Isabel raises her eyebrows. “The nose or the ankle?”

“Ankle. The nose was Johnny.”

“What?” Isabel's eyes finally latch onto the person standing next to Max. “ _Johnny_!?” 

She looks between them, alarmed. “How much did you see?!”

Johnny scratches at his neck awkwardly. "Uh." He says eloquently.

Max hurries to explain. “It’s okay, turns out he’s another-"

"Max! I got the tool The Floenix escaped in!" Ed shouts, running towards them brandishing an ice blue fan.

Max tilts his head. "The Floenix?" He pulls a face as the pun hits him with full force. "Oh, wow."

" _I_  came up with it." Isaac says proudly, walking up to them.

“That’s… good.” Max reluctantly approves. “But you know, would’ve been better if you guys were actually there to help us, man. Me and Johnny barely-"

"Johnny and I." Isaac interrupts.

“-me and Johnny barely managed to fight it off!”

Isabel scratches her neck sheepishly. “Yeaahhh, we got distracted, but when we saw it on the security cameras I promise we came as fast as- wait. You _and_ Johnny?” She swivels to look at the offending redhead, eyes widening when she sees the grey spectral energy fluttering around him. “Oh my god.”

“Yo.” Johnny raises his arm awkwardly. “Uh, Max said y’all were zombies too?”

Isaac’s jaw has dropped open, and Ed’s grinning maniacally, glasses glinting. 

“Wait, aren’t you the guy that tried to fight us and then almost cracked your skull falling down that hill?!” Isaac blurts.

“No. Way.” Isabel’s staring at him, eyes blown wide as a huge grin inches its way across her face. She runs up to him, darting around and poking him with her spectral energy to confirm. “You’re a spectral too!? Oh my god, that’s the second one at our school in like a month! Is it Christmas or am I-“

Max pulls her away from the startled Johnny, making soothing noises. “Okay, let’s take it slow.” Isabel blows a raspberry at him. “Johnny, meet the _Paranatural_ Activity Club. Paranatural Activity Club, meet Johnny.”

Ed sweeps his arm across his body and takes an exaggerated bow. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Though we’ve kinda already met and are… friends? I mean he tried to beat me up but-”

Max starts. “He what?!”

“You know what they say, Max.” Johnny grins, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Max sighs. “I really don’t.”

“True friendships are forged through violence.” 

“ _They really aren’t.”_

“Come on, we’ve been through a ton a’ violences and we’re already the broiest of bros. We just fought that thing off together!”

“I’m pretty sure that was just unfortunate coinciden-“

“ _Both_ of you fought the thing off?” Isaac questions.

“Oh yeah, Johnny’s a medium like you.” Max answers. He smirks. “But not so much of a tool.” He immediately steps to the side to avoid the angry raincloud that pops up above him.

Johnny grins. “Yeah! Look at this!” He pulls a Dragon-Ball-Z-esque pose and his body starts to glow, burning up and radiating heat. Alarmingly, his hair starts to catch fire, and while Johnny’s immune, it sends thick smoke towards the ceiling.

Max panics. “Wait, Johnny-“

A piercing sound echoes through the building, and all five kids jump and cover their ears. Max groans. There it is. A second later, the sprinklers kick in too, and all of them yelp as water drenches them from above.

“ _JOHNNY_!” Isabel yells over the noise. “Maybe not set off the fire alarm!?”

“Aw, s’okay. ’s’not my first time anyway!” Johnny grins sheepishly, hair wet and sizzling.

Max rolls his eyes, but can’t help the smile that creeps up on his face. He prods Johnny with his bat. 

“Ugh, okay less-angsty Zuko, let’s get out of here before the fire department arrives.”  


**Author's Note:**

> you: but wouldn't forge and johnny have to meet properly? there's also no way johnny got that much control over his powers so quickl-  
> me: shhhh just let me write my extremely self-indulgent power couple fic
> 
> also i have a ton of different ideas about how johnny becomes a spectral and every single one involves him setting off the fire alarm or burning something down and i am 100% going to write them all when school's not being an ass
> 
> come yell at me about pnat and bullymagnet at my [tumblr](http://www.kindlespark.tumblr.com) or my [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/kindlespark)


End file.
